Ya gotta have friends

Gentle readers,

I love my friends. I think I'm a good friend. I'm a loyal, do anything for you, shirt-off-my-back kind of friend. And like speaks to like, so I've got loyal do anything for you, shirt-off-their-back friends.

I'd like to talk about one friend in particular. This friend has been a real friend for almost 18 years now. The years have had ups and downs and twists and turns and yet, through it all, there we were and here we still are. The latest chapter involves her diagnosis of breast cancer and my own recent health hurdles. Since we had sychronized illnesses, I haven't been able to be there for her like I'd like.

The last couple days, as I have begun to feel a little more like myself, I have been able to do a little bit more on her behalf. She's got a compromised immune system, can't be in public and has some weird food aversions/cravings as a result of her therapies. We were instant messaging each other late one afternoon when she said she was having a specific craving. "No trouble." say I casually. "I'll run to the store and pick up those three items and drop them off." The store is like a block away and Friend lives less than ten minutes away. She protested and said it was silly and she'd make it work with what she had. After a bit of convincing, she gives in and even admits that she was glad I'd insisted.

Now, I am so incredibly stoked to be able to help. I'm feeling awesome about myself and that my level of usefulness to those who hold me dear is starting to return. I have three items to pick up at the store for Friend and what the hell, I'll also toss in a bouquet of flowers to help cheer her. I'll be to the store, her house and back in roughly half an hour. I put on my boots, my scarf and coat and head out the door. I close the door, smiling broadly. See, if we really want to analyze it, I think this is pricisely when things went sideways. I smiled. I was Super Mutti again, able to come the aid of my friends. (This same friend is one who once called me in the middle of the night to help with a bat situation.) It was fleeting, but still one of the highlights of the last few months. Fleeting, you say? Yes, because in the instant that the door closed and I heard the lock catch, it occurred to me that me keys weren't in my coat pocket at all. No, no. They were hanging from the key hook. Drat! (and a few other expletives that I'll let you imagine to keep things here in blogsville PG-13)

I phone Partner. She's a half hour away moving furniture at her parents house. So, I call Friend. Friend says "Hi?" I explain the situation and then we enjoy a few moments of hysterics because at the end of the day, it's pretty freakin' funny. It's also pretty freakin' cold. Friend will drive over, hand me the key, I'll run to the store and drive the groceries to her. Friend arrives and explains that that's insane and she'll drive me to the store, wait for me (it's only three things) then take me home and go home with the groceries.

The list was simple and short: spaghetti sauce, coffee and wine coolers. Now, as Friend is having aversions/cravings there are very specific varieties of each that are required. If you're a regular reader, you know that I'm no good at grocery shopping, but again...I'm willing to do what it takes to help Friend. I grab some flowers on the way in. I locate the sauces and with minimal searching find the sauce required. I go to the coffee aisle and spend several minutes confirming the fact that the required variety is no where to be had.

I'll think on it and head to wine coolers, which by the way, aren't near the beer...they are near the wine. Now, the requirement was original plain wine coolers. I didn't think that would be asking for the sun, moon, stars and a wormhole in a 4-pack, but it was. They've got everything you can imagine. Margarita, pina colada, berry, fuzzy navel, passion fruit, even one called apple-icious (no foolin')...nothing plain.

As I'm considering which bottle of fuzzberry passion colada cooler will be least likely to make Friend cry or barf, my cell phone rings. "Hello. What are you doing in there?" "Well, there's been a few snags." say I to Friend. I explain. Friend talks me through finding another suitable coffee and we decide we'll take our cooler-quest elsewhere. I checkout and make way back to Friend's car.

We have another moment of hysterics while we discuss that this is just exactly the sort of thing that happens to us. We should never ever again assume that anything will happen normally for us, not even a quick trip to the grocery store.

Two stores later, we are no closer to finding plain wine coolers. We head back to the first store to pick up something that we hope will suit. We were at this, start to finish, about two hours which is more activity than either was planning and exhausting for Friend. It was fun to be able to make a memory with Friend again. We'll file this one somewhere between the bat, my station wagon filled with my worldly possessions stuck on railroad tracks with a train coming and searching for my cat in the middle of the night in a bathrobe and Etienne Aigner shoes.

Random Musing Item: What happens to humans when they drive past cows in a field that makes us want to moo at them?